


First Snow of the Year

by Rufalius



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Cloud Ruler Temple, Gen, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28723431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rufalius/pseuds/Rufalius
Summary: Elisthir thinks that Martin should take a break from studying the Mysterium Xarxes and enjoy the snow, but Martin refuses to do so. Because of that, Elisthir takes matters into his own hands.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	First Snow of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I am still new to publishing fanfic, so constructive criticism is welcome!

During Bruma’s winters, the first snow of a year was often nothing extraordinary for the city's location: perhaps a thin coating of frost or more, although not abundant enough to do activities like sledding, unless one was willing enough. But this year was different. In the dead of the night, snow blew down from Aetherius in a blur, piling one layer on top of another. By the time that the sun peeked over the horizon, dunes of snow blanketed the landscape like an endless desert as far as the naked eye could see, visible from the top of the area’s tallest hill, sparkling like diamonds. 

In the halls of Cloud Ruler Temple, its residents who were not on duty or training mostly stayed indoors and did whatever they could to keep themselves warm from the frigid weather, and the kitchen’s chefs were already planning hot meals that would go well for a snowy day. In the Great Hall, the lighting was dim but the warm crackling of the freshly lit fireplace illuminated the room, producing a cozy atmosphere. Although, that did mean that everyone felt cozy, namely a certain future emperor-to-be. Nope, instead, the previously mentioned future emperor sat in his usual spot at a table in the hall, where most days he would pass his entire day decoding the Mysterium Xarxes. Today, however, a certain someone decided that lollygagging in the snow outside was more important. 

“Oh, c’mon, Marty Boy, it’ll be fun!” Elisthir persisted, spreading himself all over Martin’s table in a dramatic pose, dressed in his winter clothes and cloak caked with snow, which dripped onto the surface. Luckily for him, Jauffre was nowhere near to berate him for improper use of furniture. He plastered on his most convincing pleading face, glinting with mischief. “We could build a snowman, or maybe have a snowball fight!” 

Martin sighed as he wiped away the melted liquid. “I already told you, I can’t. I’m so close to deciphering the next part of the Mysterium Xarxes and I shouldn’t stop now.” Placing the blighted book down, he placed his hand on his forehead. _So close...and maybe this damned Oblivion Crisis can be over_. But then he would the Emperor of Tamriel, a nerve-wracking thought that made his whole body tense. 

Elisthir huffed. “You spend all day and all night on that book ― I think you can take a break from it for one moment.” 

“I can’t,” Martin repeated. “Plus I don’t think I would be able to keep up with any of those things anyway.” Not only was he getting older, but his life as a priest had not been the most active, so now his knees weren’t as good as they used to be. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, and I’ll let you choose what we’ll do!” Elisthir sat up and moved his legs off the table, flashing another wide pleading grin. “Besides, you need to loosen up a bit or you’re gonna turn entirely gray by the time this shit daedra problem is over,” he joked. True, Martin had grown some extra gray hairs ever since the attack on Kvatch, but that was not the point. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” 

Elisthir remained silent, but his grin never faltered. After a moment, the Bosmer shrugged, leaped off the table, and stretched. “Ah, that’s alright. You do you.” He stepped around the table and headed toward the Great Hall entrance. “I guess I’ll go outside...all by myself.” He emphasized the last part in an exaggerated way, an obvious last-minute method to convince Martin. After receiving not much of a response from the other man, Elisthir continued on out, the giant door slamming behind him. 

Martin picked up the Mysterium Xarxes and continued to decipher it, but after some time his mind grew foggy and the words blurred as he struggled to concentrate. Okay, so maybe Elisthir was right and he did need to take a break… No, he was so close to a breakthrough; he could stop once he figured it out.

The grand hall door slid open, followed by the patter of footsteps that marched with purpose, but Martin did not bother to glance up to see who entered, too engrossed in his research. Next thing he knew, a freezing something smacked him and erupted in his face. 

The ice settled on his cheek and the chilling water topped his hair. Once he wiped away the snow and overcame his initial surprise, he could see his assailant. 

Standing before him was Elisthir, wearing a shit-eating grin and carrying several more snowballs in his arms. 

“Wha —”

Another snowball eruption in the face.

“Since you won’t let yourself loosen up, I decided to take direct action,” Elisthir said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world with a challenging undertone. “If you don’t, I’m going to keep harassing you with snowballs until you do. The choice is choice is up to you.” Martin blinked and then blinked again. Several long seconds passed before he relented and a mischievous grin of his own burst across his face.

“I suppose I have no other choice.” 

Elisthir dashed out of the temple and Martin, grabbing a cloak and a pair of gloves, followed behind at a slower pace. The biting winter winds pierced his face the moment they exited the temple and Martin’s eyes had to adjust to the light reflecting off the crystalline snow, so much brighter than inside. Once they reached the courtyard, Martin bent down to clutch the snow and test it. It is soft and rolls neatly.

Elisthir launched his third assault, hurling another snowball. While Martin expected it this time, the ice smacked him on his shoulder, and he launched his own offense. 

They fought against each other in their playful war, dodging and throwing. Elisthir possessed an elegance — tossing snowballs and evading his opponent’s with precision and agility. Martin is nowhere as nimble, his knees will not allow it, and snowballs struck him often. He ended up hitting more of the temple’s stone walls or flying elsewhere rather than Elisthir, but that did not stop him. Their shouts, their swears, and their laughs were loud enough that it drew the attention of Cloud Ruler’s residents, some of whom came out to investigate while the few who were already out observed with amusement.

Soon their attacks diminished as the pair tired out, especially Martin, face red and breathing heavily from the exertion. The priest hunched over to catch his breath, warm under his clothes but a chill beginning to tingle his exposed skin. 

“I believe that I won that round,” said Elisthir as he bounced over to his friend, who only let out a soft chuckle. 

“I’m going to have to agree with you on that.” Martin stood up straight as he regained his breath. “I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in ages.” 

“You better have! Let’s get you inside 一 if you were to die of stress first, now you’re gonna die of frostbite.” The wood elf extended out his arm and Martin took it, both returning to the Great Hall’s warmth as Elisthir rattled on about a potion of warmth recipe he would like to try.

**Author's Note:**

> While in-game Bruma is always snowy, I headcanon that it isn't always such in the actual TES world, hence the reference to this being the year's first snowfall, plus I also headcanon that it has an environment similar to the Rift in Skyrim. :)


End file.
